


Get Him Back (Everything Has Changed)

by heyitsdia0



Series: Quick-writes [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Can you tell this is my first, Crowley is a gay disaster, Drunk Crowley, I love these two idiots, I’m a dork, M/M, Most of this isn’t even fluff it’s just their relationship through time, This is practically unfinished wow sorry about that, Wrote this in an hour I know it sucks, why am I doing this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-08
Updated: 2019-11-08
Packaged: 2021-01-25 15:20:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21358378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyitsdia0/pseuds/heyitsdia0
Summary: So yes this is my first if you can’t tell. It’s very very very very bad, and I’m kind of disappointed in myself but who cares. Anyways, this is how I think Aziraphale and Crowleys relationship played out throughout history behind the scenes (Sort of..?)
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Quick-writes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1693534
Kudos: 8





	Get Him Back (Everything Has Changed)

An angel and a demon had been drinking copious amounts, no - scratch that - quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol.  
Aziraphale and Crowley were both seated quite comfortably on an old sofa in Aziraphales’ bookshop. A record had been playing for the past hour, but neither of them knew what it was. Empty bottles of red wine littered the floor, and books that were supposed to be reshelved would have to wait until tomorrow.  
“Now, Crowley, my dear boy,” Aziraphale began drunkenly. “You mean to tell me that..Gabriel is..was..”  
Crowley jumped in. “He..He is a big monkey. That’s it, angel.”  
Aziraphale shook his head. “No, Crowley, that can’t be right because..He’s an angel.”  
Crowley looked at him, confused. “Wait, angel, you’re an angel too..S’not right. No, I think..I think I was going somewhere with that one.” He hiccuped and got up, stumbling as he clumsily walked through the bookshop.  
“Didn’t you say something about Oscar, angel? How he wrote ...The Selfish Giant for you?”  
Aziraphale stared at him for a moment. “No, I didn’t. I think you’re referring to..something else.”  
Crowley ran his fingers through the worn spines, until he came across a title he instantly remembered purchasing for Aziraphale.  
“Angel, why do you still have The Decameron? I gave thissss to you…” Crowley paused here, trying to regain his concentration. “I gave thiss to you..like...a million billion years ago.” He couldn’t help but hiss, it was in his nature - But the alcohol sure didn’t help.  
“Crowley, we’ve only..know each other six thousand years.”  
“Maybe..We met each other in a passst life.” Crowley leaned into the bookshelves, barely catching himself.  
“Since when ...Since when did you believe in re’carnation, my boy?”  
Crowley smirked. “Point taken.”  
Aziraphale got up. “Maybe..Maybe we should get some more wine.”  
Crowley pushed his glasses back up to his nose. “Can’t...Can’t you just miracle it, angel?”  
“It’s not that easy, my dear boy.” Aziraphale tripped over a stack of books. Crowley rushed to catch him, but he was too late, and suddenly they were toppled over each other on the floor.  
“Crowley..” Aziraphale moaned slightly, and Crowley lifted his head from his chest.  
“Yeah, angel?” He wanted to hear Aziraphale moan again, but didn’t mention it.  
“Can you move to the right a little? You’re..very..”  
“Sssexy?” Crowley asked hopefully.  
“Yes, well, that, but..uh..Oh, how..How do I put this. I’m very drunk Crowley, so please don’t get angry with me when I say this..”  
Crowley rolled his eyes. “Ssspit it out, angel.”  
“Oh, for - You’re too bony, my dear boy. Your elbows are piercing my sides. It hurts dreadfully, I’m afraid.”  
Crowley immediately moved, a little hurt that his best friend didn’t want him on top of him. Then, a lightbulb flickered in his brain, illuminating his senses.  
“S’What was it that you said about me again?”  
Aziraphale looked taken aback. “That..you’re too bony?”  
“No, the other thing.”  
“What other- Oh.” Aziraphale stopped and turned red, remembering he had in fact agreed that Crowley was sexy. He covered his mouth, but Crowley could see the blush rising on his neck.  
Crowley took his finger, now closer to Aziraphale than before, and traced it along the angels jawline.  
“Angel, do you really think that about me?” He whispered softly.  
“My dear boy, I think you know what I think about you. We’ve had this discussion many times now..”  
Crowley grinned. “I know, angel. But sssometimes, I dunno,” Crowley began to lose control, cupping Aziraphales head in his hands. “Sometimes I remember all those times we couldn’t be together, when we would argue over holy water or you’d worry about what Heaven and Hell would do to us. Sometimes I don’t believe that we’re still here, that we can do all this..”  
Aziraphale kissed him, gently - They had kissed before Armag-didn’t, kissed right after it too; And yet this kiss was the sweetest. It was pure, full of good intentions, and perfectly satisfied their needing of each other.  
In the beginning, Crowley wanted to tempt Aziraphale to bed. He wanted nothing more than one night with such a sweet, delicate angel.  
But as time passed, the both of them found themselves in different, some let’s say - hard pressed situations, and they gradually fell for each other. During the fourteenth century, when Crowley was moping around, unhappy with humanity and the plagues and all, Aziraphale felt quite lonely. He didn’t see much of Crowley. Aziraphale was left to heal and protect humanity alone for the first time. For that reason, he hated the fourteenth century just as Crowley did if not more so.  
Of course, he had a soft spot for it as well, because he realized then, in the darkest of times, that Crowley was his best friend. That he truly wanted him around because they were very good friends.  
After Aziraphale had his fling with Oscar Wilde, he and Crowley made up after the whole holy water fiasco of 1862. Crowley took him to dinner more often. They chatted quite frequently as the decades passed, and eventually exchanged telephone numbers.  
In the thirties, Crowley went through a bout of, ironically, depression. He hated seeing humanity so low and unhappy and in such sad spirits. But what could a demon do? He avoided seeing Aziraphale, and slowly slid further into his depression, unsure why his spirits wouldn’t lift, worried that he would make his angel unhappy too.  
Finally, stocks began to rise again but suddenly, the world was at war. And Aziraphale somehow got himself entangled with Nazis and undercover agents, and Crowley had to save him again.  
Aziraphale was more than stunned to see him, but so, so happy and very grateful. That night, Aziraphale invited Crowley to the bookshop, and admitted his feelings during a long session of drinking. From there, the relationship was off and on, the both of them longing to be together, yet too afraid of their respective bosses.  
In 1967, Aziraphale had indeed wanted to go home with Crowley - Very much so, indeed. But he could only remember a meeting with head office the day before, in which Gabriel went on a very long tangent about ‘office relationships.’ Aziraphale shivered at the thought, and only said: You go to fast for me, Crowley.  
It wasn’t until the seventies that they both met up at a gala, some charity thing Aziraphale had organized, that they started seeing each other constantly.  
Crowley would come to the bookshop, Aziraphale to Crowleys’ flat in Mayfair. They could only hope that someday, their love would be accepted, but they knew it was wishful thinking.  
By the time Adam was born, both of them knew they were madly in love.  
So much so that Crowley put off work for two weeks just to take a cruise with Aziraphale.  
You can imagine Heaven and Hell were suspicious, but it wasn’t until Micheal just had to look at the Earth Observation Files that everything went to shit.  
The night before their trials, Crowley held Azirapahle close, neither of them saying a word about it until the next day after a long lunch at the Ritz.  
They were both on edge for two months.  
Two damn months, worried of what would come next.  
Nothing ever did.  
Finally, they were safe and sound, happy to be where they belonged - With each other.

**Author's Note:**

> P.S - I love music. The title is Fiona Apples’ Get Him Back, and I played off of David Bowie’s ‘Nothing has changed’ compilation album. I’m also really dumb so if you think I messed something up historically or my grammar is horrible or whatever then that’s on me and I’m apologizing now


End file.
